


knowing the way

by watergator



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, First Meetings, M/M, Sexuality, Shoplifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23175766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: dan meets phil at a partybased on the line in BIG, "trust me, i've known a lot of straight guys until a couple of drinks, some deep conversation and lingering eye contact, and suddenly they just start leaning in."
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 131





	knowing the way

**Author's Note:**

> written for heartsopenminds on twitter for the phandomgives charity fic <3

He’s not entirely sure why he’s here.

Well. That’s a lie. He knows  _ kinda  _ why he’s here.

A bottle of free booze in his hand that’s already lukewarm and the promise or more, unlimited and even more warmer booze in the kitchen of this university house, is why he’s here.

Still. He’s just awkwardly standing in the corner of the living room watching everyone else move around him.

He takes a swig of his bottle, letting the liquid burn at the back of his throat and a spark fires in his belly when there’s a hand clasping at his shoulder.

He spins around and frowns to see the culprit that’s knocking into him with a sway of his long body.

“Sorry!” 

There’s a body attached to the hand that’s slipping off his shirt sleeve. A rather attractive body. With a rather attractive face on top.

“Sorry,” he mumbles again and the previous tension quickly melts away as Dan just laughs at the strangers drunken stupor, swinging his bottle around in tight circles, letting the beer inside swish around.

“You alright?” He asks him.

The guy shakes his head, and all of a sudden he goes very pale, like whatever little colour he has left of his cheeks has been suddenly washed out for grey.

“Oh,” Dan says awkwardly. “Oh. Um. Do you need a bathroom?” 

The guy looks up through his shaggy, inky fringe and nods. 

“Please,” he says rather weakly.

Dan ends up abandoning his warm beer to help the stranger get across the room and up the stairs towards the bathroom.

“Are you gonna be—“

It’s too late. The guy is already lunging forward with a gag before he’s fallen to his knees and his head is down the toilet. 

Dan grimaces as the boy spits right into the bowl.

“Sorry,” he says again, voice a little echo-y from where his head is halfway down the loo.

Dan sniffs, taking an awkward step back. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to look or not. “S’alright. Too much to drink?”

The boy pulls himself up, only to lean his back against the toilet and look up at Dan. There’s a bit of colour back in his face, but not an awful lot.

“Probably. Not good at parties,” he tells him.

Dan smiles. “Why’re you here then?”

The boy frowns, his full bottom lip juts out. He looks awfully good for a guy that’s just spewed his guts out.

Or maybe Dan’s the one that’s had too much to drink. Or maybe just a little bit of both.

“‘M trying new things,” the guy tells him with a slight slur to his voice. “It’s the new me.”

Dan chuckles and gives him a quick quirk of his brows as he smiles at the poor lad still sat on the bathroom floor. 

“I hate to break it to you, but the new you doesn’t seem to be going very well at the moment.”

The boy's lips simply tug into a sad little frown, and there’s a flash of sadness across his face as he huffs. 

“Don’t need to be told that twice.”

It’s then that he’s holding an arm out, stretching it towards Dan that he just stares blankly at it.

“Help me up?” He asks, making a little grabby hand notion, flexing his fingers, and Dan sighs, but takes his hand nonetheless, and pulls his body up off the bathroom floor.

“Thanks,” the guy says once he’s back at almost eye level with him.

Dan smiles. “Dan,” he tells him.

“Phil,” Phil smiles back. They’re still holding hands, until Phil drops his, and they both flop back to their sides.

Dan looks right into his eyes. They’re a strange sort of colour. Almost three at once if it’s almost possible.

“Well Phil,” he says with a heavy breath. “I think you need to work on your mantra.”

Phil cocks his head slightly. “Yeah?” 

Dan nods before he reaches up and pushes his fringe out of his eyes.

“Yup. If you’re gonna try new things, you gotta actually try them properly.”

Phil makes a grimace at him. “What do you mean by that?”

Dan smiles, cockily and slyly as he opens the bathroom door and walks out, looking over his shoulder to make sure Phil’s following him.

“If you wanna be better at drinking, you gotta know what you like first.”

He watches Phil swallow; the bob of his Adam’s apple is pretty incredible, and Dan wishes he could stare forever, but instead, he leads Phil back down the stairs with a giggle as he skips merrily to the kitchen.

*

He ends up making something fruity for him.

Dan is no expert on making drinks, but knows what a majority of them taste like, and with that knowledge he’s able to create something that’ll concede with his taste buds after he asks Phil what his favourite flavours are.

He hands Phil the poison, and he watches carefully as he brings it to his lips and takes a sip.

And then takes another sip. And another.

Dan’s laughing as he takes the drink from Phil’s hands and it spills down his front with a splash.

They’re both laughing that they don’t even realise.

“That’s fucking good,” Phil tells him with a raise of his brows. He licks his lips and Dan can’t help but stare once again.

“You’re like. Really good at that.”

Dan snorts and does a little curtsey that makes Phil laugh. 

“I’m a connoisseur in drinks I guess.”

Phil squawks a laugh. “Uh huh.”

“Among plenty other things,” Dan adds, making Phil laugh again.

*

They spend their time in the kitchen, away from the rest of the party.

They’re perched on two barstools, talking and drinking some more. Dan learns that Phil is studying in film, and that he’s a rather creative person. Dan tells him about his boring law degree but Phil listens and encourages him until he becomes more and more incoherent with each drink Dan makes him, and eventually they start to slow down, only to Phil’s dismay.

“I wanna get drunk,” he pouts.

Dan grins. “You’re  _ already _ drunk.”

Phil scowls at him, but it doesn’t come across as true. In fact, his lips curl around a ghost of a smile that makes Dan’s heart thump hard against his chest as just the small glimpse. 

“I hate you,” Phil pouts with a whine, pulling Dan from his thoughts.

A laugh gets caught in his throat.

“I saved you from throwing up on yourself and helped you find your new drink as part of your new you. You should be  _ thanking _ me, mate. Not hating me.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Phil allows himself to properly smile this time.

“Yeah,” he hums. It’s barely audible over the sound of the rest of the party happening just one room over, but then, there’s a hand on Dan’s leg.

They both look down to see Phil’s hand, resting heavy on Dan’s thigh clad jeans. They both look up to meet eyes.

They darent break away, and Dan’s heart is pounding. He was kind of hoping he might get a fun little hookup from tonight, but Phil… Phil somehow feels different. And right now with his palm against his leg and his eyes staring deeply into his, it feels a whole lot better than it was the beginning of the night.

Phil’s learning in and Dan’s heart is kicking hard against his ribs. He takes a deep breath, leans into the magnetic pull between them, his eyes flutter shut and he’s bracing himself to taste Phils lip and the alcohol stained around them when—

There’s a yelp and a crash and Dan’s eyes fly open to see Phil out of his seat.

His hand has left its spot on Dan’s thigh and is instead clutching at his own chest, right about where his heart rests.

He looks at Dan, and then splutters out a laugh.

“Oh my god,” he says between a giggle and Dan just blinks at him from where he’s now stood in front of him, the barstool rocking a little from where Phil had ejected himself from his seat.

Dan blinks again and then laughs. It makes Phil only laugh harder, which in turn has Dan doubled over, clutching at his side.

“I can’t believe you,” Dan says once he’s finally composed himself, and Phil gives him a sheepish look.

“S’not my fault I’m so tall and these chairs are so… so… so useless for my long body.”

Dan snorts and then hums and bites down on his bottom lip. The hilarity has died off from Phil’s antics and he’s thinking back to the mere seconds where they’d almost kissed.

The sound of the party still thumps loudly from the other room. Someone yells, muffled by the walls and the closed door, whilst the rest of the room cheers with laughter. Dan holds his breath as he waits for it to simmer down. 

More music starts playing, rattling the walls as the bass starts up, crawling and thumping under their feet as it takes over the house.

His heart feels like it’s beating in his goddamn  _ throat _ as he looks at Phil under the dim kitchen lights and says,

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

His voice seems small and far away and for a moment he’s wondered if he’s come across brave enough to convince Phil to come back with him; that he’s a good enough guy to want to spend the rest of the night with, instead of being stuck here at a party they’re both so desperately trying to escape so much.

Phil looks at him and for a moment it looks like he’s really going to say no, but he smiles thinly and nods, shoving his hands into his pockets rather awkwardly.

“Sure,” he says quietly. “Lead the way.”

*

They don’t go back to Dan’s place like Dan had planned. Somehow he gets the impression that Phil hadn’t really been sure of what Dan had meant by leaving with him, and instead they end up walking to wherever the next pathway takes them. It’s dark out, and every so often they walk under a streetlamp in which Dan’s able to catch a glimpse of Phil’s face under the sharp yellow light before it disappears again. His head is turned down towards the pavement, and his bottom lip is caught between his crooked looking teeth, with a line of concentration between his brows. 

Phil must feel his eyes on his neck, because he looks up at Dan and smiles, before Dan swallows thickly, and looks back at the same pavement beneath their feet as they carry on walking.

It’s cold out and neither of them have a coat so they end up walking side by side like penguins, with their shoulders touching with every other step.

“So…” Phil says, hitching his shoulders up to his neck. “Law, hm?”

Dan scoffs and kicks the toe of his trainer against the pavement and shakes his head.

“Don’t even ask,” he tells him through a grin.

Phil holds his hands up in a mini surrender and chuckles. “I won’t. Though, I’m more curious now.”

Dan snorts. “About what? Why I’m taking it or if I’m actually any good at it?”

He turns his head to see Phil already looking at him and he grins. Another street lamp offers him a better view of Phil’s face, and he’s able to see the way that his tongue pokes out between his teeth.

Dan smiles wide. “Well, you can stay curious. It’s too much of a long and boring story.”

Phil makes a sound of acknowledgement and they fall back into a comfortable silence. There’s no cars around them, and the rest of the world is probably sleeping as they walk side by side. Dan’s lost track of the time already, but it doesn’t really matter to him; time seems meaningless as he walks with Phil. They’re not even sure where they’re walking to, but it feels nice to just walk.

“Bit cold, innit,” Phil eventually speaks up. His voice is loud and jarring and it makes Dan jump almost before he looks at where Phil’s stood beside him, looking like a turtle with his shoulders up to his ears like it’s going to make him feel any less cooler.

Dan laughs, and it’s that’s when he spots the off-license that’s practically  _ glowing  _ behind Phil, and he grins.

Phil turns his head to look at what Dan’s looking at, and his lips curl into a cute little smile.

“Come on,” Dan tells him as he steps past him and reaches for the door. “I know what’ll warm us up.”

*

They browse the alcohol aisle for a while, picking up different bottles to have a read of the label as if they both have any clue of what it all means.

The rest of the little shop is empty, and the guy behind the cashier is bored and sleepy looking, like if he closes his eyes even for a second, he might actually fall asleep.

“Why did we leave a party with free drinks to come and buy more drinks?”

Phil’s looking at him. He has a bottle of Sambuca in his hand, the other is still shoved weirdly into his jeans pocket. A quick glance down and it looks like he has spiders for fingers. Dan notes it down as yet another rather endearing quality of this strange, strange man.

“Because,” Dan says whilst reaching over and plucking the bottle from his grasp and putting it back on the shelf. Sambuca gives him a funny tummy. “There’s a big difference between party drinking, and just two people alone drinking.”

He picks up a bottle of Malibu and gives it a waggle which makes Phil laugh.

“I don’t have any money,” he then tells him, his smile dropping off his face.

Dan swipes his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip and raises his brows with a devilish smile.

“Me neither,” he tells him in a low voice, quiet enough that the sleeping cashier will be less likely to hear him.

Phil’s brow furrows as he looks at the bottle and then back at Dan.

“So what are we going to do?” He asks, his voice also dropping to a whisper.

Dan picks up another bottle off the shelf and shoves it into Phil’s chest where he flaps around and grabs it before it can fall to the floor.

Dan chuckles and winks at him. “We’re doing things we don’t usually do, right?”

Phil swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs and Dan becomes momentarily distracted before Phil’s opening his mouth to say,

“What do you mean by that?”

Dan spins his head around to see the cashier; he’s attention is drawn to the glowing phone screen in his hand and when Dan looks back at Phil, it seems like he’s caught up on the idea that Dan’s yet to actually tell him.

“No,” he says, a little shocked, eyes going wide in a comical way.

Dan lets out a silent laugh, and looks at Phil through squinted eyes as he nods. 

“Come on,” he whispers to him as he ducks down a little; trying to sneak out of a empty store when you’re over six foot isn’t going to be easy, but once again, the bored teenager isn’t paying them any notice and when Dan looks behind him, Phil’s doing the same, with a more nervous expression about him, clutching his bottle to his chest tightly.

They make careful and quiet steps, trying not to draw any attention to themselves. They see the exit, and Dan turns around to look at Phil and give him a grin or encouragement.

Phil rolls his eyes and nods for him to keep going.

They make the door, and Dan gives one last check that the cashier hasn’t looked up and he feels a rush of excitement.

The door swishes open and he’s quick to get out, Phil too, as he bumps into his back making Dan giggle.

They’re out in the open air with their stolen booze and Phil lets out a shaky laugh. When Dan looks at him, he does look a little shaken up, but overall, maybe a tad thrilled with what he did.

“Now what?” Phil asks.

Dan huffs a laugh, and it’s so cold out that he can see his own breath in front of his face. He quirks his brows and grins once again and whispers to Phil,

“Run!”

He takes off, running as fast as he can, feet slapping against the pavement, heart pounding in his chest. He hears Phil behind him, a surprised gasp, and then, there’s fast footsteps behind him and ragged breathing.

Dan’s laughing. Probably way too loud and manic for such a late hour but he can’t help himself. He runs and feels his heart beat heavy against his ribs with each long stride he takes as the air whips past his face and he can’t feel a thing.

He stops running when he eventually runs out of steam; it doesn’t take long due to his terrible relationship with any kind of sport or commitment to exercise, and when he turns around, Phil is behind him, doubled over with one hand on his knee to keep himself from falling over probably, and the other is still wrapped tightly around the neck of the bottle of alcohol they’d stolen.

“You’re a maniac,” Phil says between huffed breaths. He stands up and his face is red and Dan is sure his own can’t look any better. His hair is probably curling and his skin is probably blotchy.

“You love it,” Dan tells him. For a moment, he’s worried if maybe he’s pushed it too far; Phil frowns, a deep crease between his brows that’s starting to look permanent, but his expression melts away and it’s replaced by something far more relaxed as he lets out an airy laugh.

Phil just gives him a wonky smile that has Dan’s heart skipping in his chest. He holds their trophy bottles out and grins, hard.

“Come on then,” he gulps. “These ain’t gonna drink themselves.”

*

They do eventually end up going back to Dan’s place.

Dan’s place, that’s actually not his place, but rather just the place he sleeps, owned by the university. His room is barely a four by four floor space, and the walls on either side are paper thin. 

Dan’s spent many an hour awake on his tiny single mattress, listening to his neighbours either side of him, making all sorts of noises throughout the night, making it hard to look them in the eye the next morning when they’d bump into one another in the communal kitchen.

Dan becomes aware how small the room really is when he has Phil inside it. His legs brush up against a pair of bony knees where he’s perched on the edge of the bed as Dan tries to fumble around the tight space.

He’s looking for two glasses; it’s been a while since he’d done any kind of washing up in here, and all he has is one dirty mug with a Final Fantasy print on it that he shoves across his desk with a hint of disgust.

He spins on the heels of his feet to see Phil giving him an expectant look from where he’s sat, the ugly brown sheets are wrinkled under his legs and the two stolen goods are laying beside him, cushioned in the blankets.

He smiles at Dan, his ankles crossed over one another rather sweetly, and it makes Dan realise how cute Phil really is, with his floppy black hair, his soft round face, almost baby-faced, and the curve of his spine really pinpoints his awkwardness perfectly.

“No glasses,” Dan tells him with a nonchalant shrug, taking two steps to close the gap between them. He crawls onto the bed and sits in the middle, crossing his legs.

Phil turns his body to look at him.

“No glasses?” Phil repeats, and Dan grins, taking the Malibu in his hands and twisting the top off.

He looks at Phil, right into those water coloured eyes, and he grins, licking his lips and letting his Adam’s apple bob, before he brings the bottle to his lips.

“Try new things, right?”

Phil’s eyes are trained on his lips, right where they ghost over the rim of the bottle. He swallows, and looks back up at Dan to meet his gaze.

“Right.”

*

They take turns in taking sips. They don’t speak much and the room is quiet besides the little pants Phil keeps making every time he takes a particularly hard gulp.

He tilts his head back and guzzles the last of the alcohol back and it drips over his chin, right over his jeans and onto the sheets.

Dan laughs. He’s crossed the line of being sober long ago, and he’s blindly grabbing for the second bottle before realising it must have fallen off the bed at some point and rolled over where it remains out of reach. He’s too lazy to get up and find it, and even in his drunken state of mind, he’s not sure he really wants to get any more drunk than this. He knows his limit, and he’s teetering over it right now. 

He’s simply doing Dan in the future a big,  _ big  _ favour.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when Phil hisses, glancing down at the mess he’s made and he whines, like  _ actually  _ fucking whines. Like a puppy.

Dan watches him attempt to dry the little damp spot right on the duvet with the sleeve of his hoodie, but his reactions are slow, and he reminds Dan of some sort of drunk sloth.

Phil looks up at him with round eyes. “I made a mess,” he simply says.

Dan laughs again, he can’t help it. “You’re so fucking cute.”

His stomach doesn’t twist up like it usually does when the words leave his lips. There’s a nagging part of him in the back of his brain that is telling him that he probably  _ should  _ be panicking. 

But Phil’s face changes; he looks shocked, if only for half a second, before it relaxes, and his tongue is trapped between his teeth and the place around his eyes crinkle when he smiles and he lets out a giggle, and Dan forgets about the panic momentarily.

“I’m a mess, not cute,” Phil squints, still hiccuping a laugh.

“I beg to differ,” Dan tells him. He watches the way Phils breath hitches in his throat, and for a moment, Dan wonders if he’ll say anything.

He doesn’t. And instead, he just holds the bottle and runs his thumb around the wet rim in slow, smooth circles.

They settle back into a comfortable silence once again.

Dan’s eyes are trained at the duvet beneath him where a little string of fabric has frayed away from the woven pattern. He wraps it around his pinky finger, it goes tight, making the skin go a little white, when he hears Phil clears his throat and he darts his eyes back to meet the longing look he’s got stuck on his face.

Dan’s mouths dry from just looking at him.   
  
“Hey Dan?” Phil asks, voice quiet, almost raspy from both a mixture of the alcohol and the sleepiness that’s setting in.   
  
“Yeah?” Dan whispers back.   
  
Phil pauses, his tongue runs across his bottom lip for a second, like he’s mulling the words over in his head, when he shifts where he’s sat on his leg. He’s ditched the bottle, letting it lay beside him, uncaring.   
  
“You know how we’re doing things we don’t usually do?” He finally says.   
  
Dan simply nods.   
  
He watches the way Phil’s eyes linger a little too long on his lips, like they’re burning. When Phil finally looks back up, he has a new kind of sparkle in his eyes.    
  
It has nothing to do with the copious amounts of Malibu, Dan reckons.

No. Dan  _ knows _ .

Dan clears his throat, feeling it go all tight, and he nods again.   
  
Silence hangs heavy between them before Phil sucks in a sharp breath.   
  
“There’s something I really wanna do,” Phil tells him, scooting just an inch closer and Dan feels his heart pounding at the inside of his chest and his palms prickle with sweat and he feels hot and cold all over. “Something I’ve wanted to do all night, actually.”   
  
Dan says nothing, and it seems like Phil isn’t waiting.   
  
There’s a beat of silence and it feels like his heart is about to leap out of his mouth when Phil asks in a small, timid voice,

“Can I do it?”   
  
Tongue heavy in his head, heart loud against his ribs, Dan doesn’t wait for the words to form, he just nods, and they’re both leaning in.   
  
Phil’s lips feel soft against his. They move together in a way that feels like they’ve been doing this for years; a practiced dance that feels slow and sweet and incredible.   
  
There’s a brush of a hand against his cheek. Another hand comes to rest on his knee. The touch feels like magic - as if Phil had electricity in the tips of his fingers, and every brush of skin against skin was giving him another jolt of this fantastic feeling.   
  
His mouth tastes like coconut and mint, and Dan ends up laughing against his open mouth to imagine Phil stealing himself a mint on the way home, probably knowing that this was going to happen, only for the taste of alcohol to override it.   
  
Still, it doesn’t bother Dan, because soon enough Phil’s laughing too, swallowing down the sounds into his mouth as they fall against each other. Forehead to forehead, it feels like he fits perfectly here.   
  
Dan’s not sure when he closed his eyes, but when he opens them, he see’s Phil. His eyes are brimming with tears and he has a massive grin plastered across his face.   
  
Dan looks at him, and brushes a thumb over his cheek just as a tear slips down his face, catching it with a gentle swipe.   
  
“I don’t usually do this.” Phil admits with a sniff and a wet laugh.   
  
Dan laughs back. “I know.”   
  
It’s not the first time that some lingering eye contact and some flirtatious banter had led to this. Plenty of guys that Dan had assumed were perhaps straight, or just uninterested, always seemed to end up in this predicament, here on his bed.   
  
Except, this time it felt a whole lot different.   
  
Phil’s picking up his hands, lacing their fingers together. “I’ve felt scared for the longest time.”   
  
Dan rests his head against his again and closes his eyes. “I know,” Dan tells him. “Me too.”   
  
Phil pulls away and Dan opens his eyes to look at him. “I always knew,” Phil gulps. “That I wanted to kiss boys. That I wanted to fall in love with one.”   
  
Dan smiles. It’s a simple wish, but hearing the way Phil says it, makes his heart thud happily in his chest.   
  
“All it took was almost puking on me at some lame house party, was it?” Dan croaks with a smile. He feels impossibly happy right now, like he could start fucking floating.   
  
Phil gives a breathy laugh and more tears fall. He looks back up at Dan and grins. He looks as happy as Dan feels right now.   
  
“I guess so. It’s one of the new things I’ve accomplished so far.”   
  
Dan smiles. Tonight is a night of firsts, for both of them, and whilst Phil isn’t the first guy that Dan’s kissed, or pressed his lips up against or wanted, he’s certain that he’s learnt far more in one night than he has in the last ten years he’s spent full of worrying and obsessing over the nature of sexuality and what makes him gay.   
  
Because that’s how he feels. He feels  _ gay _ . And for once, it feels amazing.   
  
“I’ve kissed a lot of frogs,” Dan says, not even filtering himself from anything anymore. “You’re not one of them though.”   
  
Phil snorts. “I dunno,” he shrugs. “I do make a lot of animal noises.”   
  
Dan laughs, loud enough that his neighbours on the other side of his rice paper walls hear and grumble at him to shut up. They both end up laughing until Phil grows sleepy in Dan’s hold.   
  
He’ll fall asleep in his arms and they’ll both wake up with a sickly taste in their mouth and a headache that throbs like a drum.   
  
But Dan doesn’t mind.   
  
There are better things to care about instead.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr !! @watergator


End file.
